


The Inevitable

by Band007



Category: Emergency! (TV 1972)
Genre: Car Accident, Gen, Major Character Injury, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:00:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24669529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Band007/pseuds/Band007
Summary: Sometimes life doesn't go like we want it to. What happens when the rescuer is the one in need of rescue?
Kudos: 36





	1. The Inevitable

The day had steadily gone from bad to worse. Johnny Gage scooped the keys off the kitchen counter and grimaced at the state of the room. A stack of dirty dishes piled precariously in the sink paled in comparison to the sticky syrup that dripped off the edge of the table pooling on the already dirty floor. Normally his house wasn’t this messy, but the last few days had been hectic.

He hadn’t had time to clean the house as he kept being called here and there to run errands for friends in need. John’s eyes drifted to the clock and surprise stirred him into action. He was late for work! Dashing around the island in the middle of the kitchen, he avoided the puddle of syrup and grabbed his jacket slung over the kitchen chair. He yelped in pain as he stubbed his toe on a pair of discarded shoes he’d forgotten about.

“Of all the-” Johnny trailed off as he worked to pull on his work boots and head out the door, failing to lock the front door on his way out. 

Vaguely, he debated going back and locking the door but he pushed the thought aside. He was late as it was without going back to the house. Sliding into the driver's seat, Johnny turned the key in the ignition and backed out of the driveway.

Coming to a stop at the intersection, Johnny glanced both directions before hitting the gas. He was halfway through the intersection when the truck blew through his own stop sign, T-boning the drivers door.

In slow motion, Johnny watched the truck barrel closer. Every second seemed like an eternity as inch by inch doom came closer. A bitter laugh escaped his lips at the irony of the situation. He just couldn’t seem to catch a break.

Glass cascaded down on Johnny like falling rain. The impact snapped his head to the right as darkness took him.

* * *

“Hey Cap! Have you seen Johnny?” Roy DeSoto questioned.

Worry coursed through every fiber in his being. Roll call had come and gone without any sign of his partner. Roy had quickly called Johnny’s landline and received no answer. At first he’d chalked it up to Johnny being late, but after fifteen minutes had passed, Roy knew something was wrong.

“No, I was just about to ask you the same question. I’ll tell you what, when he does get here he’s going to get an earful that’s for sure.” Captain Stanley took in the nervous posture of his paramedic. Whether he liked the thought or not, he was beginning to suspect something was wrong. One look at Roy was enough to tell him the thought was shared.

Roy started to speak only to be interrupted by the tones sounding through the station. His heart dropped to his toes when the location was a few blocks away from Johnny’s house. _Could it be Johnny? No!_ Roy stamped out the traitorous thoughts before they had time to grow. The location may be close to where Johnny lived but that didn’t mean Johnny was the victim.

As Roy yanked open the door of the Squad, he heard Craig Brice slide into the passenger seat. A desperate sinking feeling weighed Roy’s stomach when he got behind the wheel and the Captain handed the address through the open window. He could already tell today wasn’t going to be a good day.


	2. Chapter 2

Blinding flashes of light made his head pound.

His nose stung with the sharp smell of burnt wiring and gasoline.

Someone groaned nearby and he turned from the sound. All he wanted to do was sleep. Couldn’t he just sleep?

Johnny lifted his right hand to his pounding temple, desperate to find a way to stall the pain living there. He forced his aching head to remember how he got here. Where was he? He opened his eyes-at least he thought he did-and found his world clothed in darkness.

Running his fingers to cup over his eyes lids, he found his eyes were indeed open. Johnny breathed out with a short gasp as his medical training filled in the blanks.  _ Oh no! Please no! I can’t handle being blind for my life! _ Years of experience and training to be calm seemed menial compared to the possibility of being blind.

As panic took hold, he gasped out his breaths. Panic was his worst enemy in times of emergency, but he couldn’t seem to get himself under control.

“Come on...come on...can’t...can’t do this....not now.” Johnny whispered to himself. Now wasn’t the time to lose control.

He forced himself to moderate his breaths. As he took in air slowly, he felt sanity return. He’d tackle his problems one at a time. Closing his eyes, Johnny focused on his remaining senses. 

To his direct right he could feel mangled iron against his left arm trapping it to what he suspected was the drivers side door. Carefully, Johnny attempted to close his fist and gasped in pain, his attempt failed. Despite his best efforts to clench his fist, his muscles wouldn’t obey.  _ Left arm-most likely broken-moving on... _

He seemed to be leaning towards the passenger side pulling his trapped arm painfully. It was uncomfortable, but he knew better than to sit up before he checked himself over. Without his eyesight he was forced to use his right arm to grope his surroundings. Flattening his palm, Johnny ran his free hand over his left side closest to the driver's side door. Thankfully, all he seemed to find was a collection of troublesome bruises.

His hand stopped when he felt a warm wet texture on his stomach. Gently, his fingers roved over the wounded area in search for where all the blood was coming from. The task was slow and complicated without the use of his eyes. After what seemed like an eternity, something thin and hard met his hand.

Using his free hand, Johnny fingered the foreign object. Warmth seeped through his fingers letting him know he’d found the injury that was causing him to lose blood. Placing his hand around the thin object he jarred it slightly. Pain spliced its way through his stomach and he gasped only to find breathing brought him more pain. 

The missing pieces of the puzzle clicked into place when he shifted on his hip slightly and found his movement halted.The object had impaled him and effectively pinned him to the seat. Johnny ran his good hand over his forehead and then returned it to staunch the flow of blood seeping from his stomach. If he was lucky, he could stall the bleeding enough for help to arrive.

* * *

Roy’s hands clenched and unclenched around the steering wheel in anticipation. His mind raced with thousands of possibilities about why Johnny hadn’t come to work. Beside him, Craig Brice or Mister Perfect sat in the passenger seat watching all the houses they passed. While Brice and he didn’t get along about anything, Roy was grateful he was willing to fill in for Johnny at such short notice. It was hard for your expected time off to be invaded and still be in a good mood.

Brice had been unusually quiet about Johnny not showing up to work. Maybe he was waiting to give his speech to Johnny in person or he’d picked up on the worry of the Station and chose not to say anything. Whatever it was, Roy was grateful for the silence.

After what seemed like an eternity, Roy pulled the Squad alongside the Engine and took in the scene. In the middle of the intersection a battered Ford truck had broadsided a Land Rover, much like the car Johnny drove. As he rounded the Engine, Cap waved them over.

“Take Brice and check the vehicles. Meanwhile, we’ll work on keeping the vehicles from igniting.” Roy nodded and grabbed the gear from the Squad and walked closer to where the wrecked vehicles sat in the middle of the intersection.

Glass crunched under his work boots as he nervously took in the battered Ford and Land Rover. His stomach flip flopped as he noted how much the Rover looked like Johnny’s.

“I’ll take the Rover, you check the Ford!” Brice called as he brushed past Roy.

Roy started to protest, but the words died in his throat. He was a paramedic, and that meant the victims came before his desire to see if the driver of the Land Rover was Johnny. Turning his attention back to work, he leaned through the broken window of the Ford.

The driver was a middle aged man wearing faded jeans and a long sleeved flannel shirt. Roy pushed aside the airbag, getting a closer look at his victim. From what he could see, the man was in good shape compared to what condition he could be in. The worst injury the man had was a gash above his right eyebrow where he’d been pelted by broken glass.

Removing the penlight from his shirt pocket, he checked the unconscious man's eyes before moving on to his pulse. After scribbling down his vitals to be sent to Rampart, the victims eyes flicked open.

“What...what happened?” Confused eyes took in the shattered glass covering him and the passenger seat to the right.

“Sir, my name’s Roy DeSoto. I'm a paramedic with the LA Fire Department. You’ve been in a car accident, are you hurting anywhere?” The victim's eyes roamed over the interior of the vehicle.

“No...I seem to be fine.” The man lifted his arm to touch where blood was trailing down his face.

Gently, Roy pulled the hands down. “You have a laceration above your eye there. Why don’t I get that cleaned up for you while the firefighters work on getting you out of here alright? Once we get this door open we’ll get you to the hospital and checked out by a doctor at Rampart.”

Kneeling down to reach the bag holding the bandages at his feet, Roy felt a hand catch his arm. Slowly he stood and leaned through the broken window.

“The other man! Is he...is he ok?” Bright worried eyes pleaded with him.

“Don’t worry, my partner’s helping the other man as we speak. Just sit back and relax.” The victim sank further in the seat as Marco came over.

“How is he?” Roy stepped away from the truck.

“Nothing serious, just a couple bruises. He’s stable. The driver's door is buckled in, we’ll have to cut him out.” Roy’s eyes strayed to the Land Rover. “What about the other driver?”

Marco hesitated and Roy felt fear creeping back in. He’d almost convinced himself everything was fine.

“It’s Johnny. He’s the second victim.” Roy felt like he’d been sucker punched in the gut. He wanted to race over to the Land Rover, but he had a victim to take care of.

“How is he?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t get to see much, before Brice started working on him.” Marco almost looked ashamed he didn’t have more information to give. Roy turned his attention to the victim behind him.

Captain Stanley called Marco away, leaving Roy alone to bandage the man’s eye before handing the victim over to Chet and Marco to open the truck door. Then, finally, he could go check on Johnny.


	3. Chapter 3

Familiar voices drifted through his subconscious waking him up. White hot pain coursed through his entire body making him miserable. Johnny checked the desire to open his eyes, knowing he wouldn’t be able to see anything anyway. With nothing left to do, he used his other senses to fill in the gaps.

The acrid smell of burnt wiring and gasoline still assaulted his senses. Twitching his good fingers, he found they were wet. He was still bleeding. Rather than dwell on that bit of bad information, he moved on to what else he could figure out. More voices joined the distant chatter, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t decipher what they were saying. Suddenly, a hand touched him and he froze.

Carefully, gentle hands tugged his eyelids upward. Johnny waited with baited breath for his eyes to react to the light. Instead, his world remained in darkness. The hands moved to his right eye and then moved to check the left again. Fear started to trickle through Johnny, what if he was never going to see again? He couldn’t be a paramedic if he was blind.

Subconsciously, he felt the hands move to check his pulse and blood pressure. “Johnny?” The unknown hands pulled his bloody arm away from his stomach. “Johnny can you hear me?”

Finally, he was able to pinpoint who the voice belonged to. Craig Brice.

“Brice?” Inwardly, he cringed at how weak his voice sounded. Without his vision, he couldn’t see how much blood he’d lost, he could accurately guess it was a bit more than what was deemed safe. Medically, he wondered how long he could stay awake before he fell unconscious, again.

“That’s right. Johnny can you open your eyes for me?” Obediently, he flicked open his eyes, hoping he’d be able to see something. Even vague shadows would be great at this point. Unfortunately, all his lifeless eyes picked up was suffocating darkness. “That’s good. That’s real good.”

_ Oh no… _ he thought  _ I must really be bad off to get free praise from Brice. _ Hopelessly, he wished he could see what was going on around him.

“Johnny, how are you doing?” Brice genuinely sounded worried. “What do you remember?”

“I…” Johnny sputtered and stopped. A sharp splice of pain shot through him.

“It’s alright, take your time.”

“I was headed to work and got hit.” Then he remembered the other driver. “The other man, how is he?”

Brice rummaged around and pressed what Johnny assumed was a bandage against his stomach. Johnny groaned as more pain shot through him, making it hard to draw in air.

“Don’t worry about the other driver, he’s in good hands. Right now we just need to get you patched up. What else do you remember?” Brice had shifted so he could hold pressure against Johnny's stomach with one hand and check out his pinned arm with the other.

“-woke up sometime after the truck ran into me. I couldn’t see.” Johnny fell silent waiting for Brice’s reaction.

Brice wasn’t stupid, once he’d checked his eyes he would have guessed something was going on, but didn’t say anything. It seemed to Johnny like he was still deciding how to deal with it.

“Define, ‘can’t see’.” Brice’s calm voice answered him as he continued to check Johnny out.

Exasperated, Johnny opened his mouth to answer. Was Brice really going to make him spell it all out for him? “Just that. I can’t see anything. Everything is completely black. I haven’t been able to see a thing since I woke up earlier.”

“How’s your head?”

Johnny answered truthfully, “It hurts.”

Brice tipped Johnny’s head forward and palpated the lump at the back of his head. After a moment of feeling the growing lump, Brice pressed his head back against the headrest. “You’ve taken quite the hit back there. Are you hurting anywhere else?”

“I’ll be honest, everything hurts right now. Brice?”

“Ya?”

“How bad is it?” Johnny could feel Brice tense at his question.

“Better off than you should be. Don’t worry, we’ll have you patched up and shipped to Rampart as fast as we can.” Suddenly, Johnny’s eyelids started drifting shut. “Johnny?” 

His body felt like he was floating in thick mud. His paramedic training told him it was a bad idea to fall asleep with his injuries, but he couldn’t seem to force his eyes open. His muddled mind heard Brice talking to him, but he pushed the sounds aside as he sank into darkness. He was just so tired…


	4. Chapter 4

Roy wedged the crowbar in the truck door and pushed hard against it. Beside him, Chet hooked his gloved hands through the broken window, using his body weight to force the door open.

“You got it?” Chet asked Roy as they prepared to jerk back on the truck door.

“Yep, let’s try it.” Roy pulled back on the door with Chet, both straining to make the stubborn door budge.

Chet shook his head. “You know, after five minutes I’m starting to wonder if this door has something against us.”

Roy chuckled under his breath and checked his grip on the crowbar. His laugh seemed like a betrayal when Johnny was still stranded and possibly fighting for his life. Shaking himself mentally, he pulled himself back together. Things would be ok as soon as he knew Johnny was going to be alright. Chet and Roy steadied themselves for another pull when a shout stopped them.

“Roy! Brice needs help with Johnny. Marco will take over for you here.” Immediately, Roy handed his crowbar to Marco and raced over to the crushed Land Rover.

Brice had his back to Roy, as he leaned through the Land Rover’s window working on Johnny.

“Brice, how is he?” Roy’s stomach did flip flops as he waited for his answer.

Glancing over his shoulder, Brice looked at him. “Not too good.” Brice handed Roy a paper with Johnny’s vitals. “Call this into Rampart would you?”

Eager to do something that helped Johnny, Roy took the paper and pulled the biophone closer. His heart lurched as he read the vitals Brice had written down. Brice hadn’t been kidding when he’d said Johnny wasn’t doing very good. 

**“Rampart this is Squad 51, come in.”** As he waited for a reply, Roy allowed his gaze to wander where Brice stood at the broken window. He wished he could turn back time and stop this nightmare from happening.

**“Squad 51, this is Rampart…”** Roy nearly sighed in relief as Dr. Brackett’s voice came through the phone.

**“Rampart, we have a twenty-three year old male victim. The victim is suffering from a blow to the back of the head as well as a suspected broken arm and a puncture wound to the lower right abdomen…”**

At Rampart, Kel Brackett shook his head as Roy’s voice carried over the line, conveying the vitals. Brackett’s heart dropped as Roy confirmed his worst fears for the victim. The victim’s heart rate was weak and rapid, in addition to the dangerously low blood pressure.

**“...Rampart be advised, the victim’s eyes are unequal, dilated and don’t respond to light. Also, the victim is John Gage.”**

Kel pushed down the button on the radio.  **“Come again 51?”**

**“Ah, Rampart, the victim is John Gage.”**

Kel released a ragged breath as his mind eloquently painted the picture of the mess Johnny had gotten him into this time. He pressed the button again, giving instructions to Roy on how to save his partner.

* * *

Roy knelt on the passenger seat of Johnny’s Rover, holding a pressure bandage to his lacerated stomach. His heart fluttered, watching endless amounts of blood seep into the bandage. This had to be one of the hardest things he had to do in his life. Needing a break from the endless flow of blood, he glanced up at the pale face of his partner.

In a way he was thankful Johnny had lost consciousness. At least then he didn’t have to be in so much pain. Roy did a mental inventory of Johnny’s injuries. His left arm was broken in two places and still pinned to the driver’s side door. His partner’s eyes were dilated and non-responsive to light; the lump centered at the back of Johnny’s skull was most likely the cause. Then if those two weren’t enough, his partner had been impaled.

A half-inch piece of iron had punched a hole through Johnny’s back and protruded out his lower stomach leaving his partner to bleed to death. Johnny’s weak and short breaths filled the silence as he struggled to draw in air around the rod. His stomach ached to think of how much pain his partner had to be in.

“Any change?” Brice locked eyes with Roy through the cab of the Land Rover. Roy pulled Johnny’s right arm closer and gripped his wrist. He counted the hearts beats and looked up.

“No. How far out is that ambulance?” Roy fought to keep his voice level.

“Ten minutes, I just called in.” Brice grasped Johnny's broken arm and scanned how it was trapped again. “We can free his arm easy enough, but I’m worried about the puncture wound. It’s gonna be hard to stop the bleeding once we take the rod out.” Brice looked at Johnny’s pale skin and shook his head. “He can’t afford to lose any more blood as it is. If we pull him out before the ambulance gets here we may just kill him.”

“How’s the other victim?” Roy asked, he needed to give his mind something else to focus on.

“Chet and Marco pulled him out of the truck a few minutes ago. It doesn’t always seem right how one side of the accident can walk away with the slightest scratch while the other…” Brice trailed off and looked over his shoulder waiting for the ambulance to arrive. It was futile, expecting the ambulance to simply appear, but it was the most they could do at the moment.

“Roy?” Roy twisted in the passenger seat to see Cap behind him. “How is he?”

Cap leaned through the window and rested his arm on the sill. Roy swallowed hard. “Uhh… He...Um…” Roy swallowed hard pushing down his rising emotions. “We’ll need help freeing his right arm from the drivers door. His arm has a compound fracture in two places. He was uhh...there’s a lump at the base of his head. He was awake and talking to Brice for a few minutes he said he couldn’t see.”

Cap felt his heart hit the floor as he took in what Roy was telling him. His gut always clenched when one of his men was hurt but this...this was a living nightmare. Hank couldn’t begin to fathom what Johnny must be feeling right now.

“He’s going to be ok? Right?” Cap questioned.

Roy lifted his wet eyes up to meet Hank’s. “We won’t know more until we get him to Rampart.”

Hank Stanley nodded, watching his crew clean up the crash site over the top of the battered Land Rover. “What do you need to get him out of there?”

On the opposite side of the Land Rover, Craig Brice looked over his shoulder once again as he listened to Captain Stanley and DeSoto talk. Brice knew he wasn’t a particularly emotional man. Deep inside him, there was that  _ thing _ that demanded everything had to be perfect. Every single thing had to be in perfect order and make perfect sense. That was just how his mind worked.

His mind did a good job of snuffing out any spark of emotion or care. Emotional firefighters lost control and many times ended up dead. Maybe that was why he ranted at Johnny so much. Johnny was a man who lived freely on emotion and impulsiveness. DeSoto and Gage had something together, a partnership, that no matter how hard he tried Brice couldn’t seem to find for himself. 

Now it seemed so cruel to watch Roy beat himself up over Johnny bleeding out in the seat next to him. There was nothing they could do until the ambulance was on scene. Once again, Brice scanned the road over his shoulder willing the ambulance to arrive.


	5. Chapter 5

Johnny drifted towards consciousness. His body felt heavy making it hard to move and think. White hot pain stabbed through him as he worked to wake up. Faint voices swirled around him but he couldn’t make them out. Every nerve ending in his body felt like they’d been fried, severed, and hung out to dry in the hot sun too long. In short, he hurt everywhere. His left arm hurt, his head pounded in so much pain he was sure someone had taken a baseball bat to it. Finally, his back and stomach burned and ached at the same time--if that was even possible.

“-get the splint...be careful!” The miss mash of words tumbled through his abused brain. No matter how hard he tried, he could make sense of them.

A loud sound behind him drowned out the fervent voices calling orders around him. Distinctly, he had the impression he recognized one voice in particular. Frustrated, his mind attempted to follow the trail of thought but he quickly lost it. His head hurt so bad! The mercilessly loud noise ceased long enough for the voices to trickle back into his cluttered ears. 

“Watch it, watch it!”

“-slower, slower…”

An unexpected stabbing pain in his abdomen chased his breath away. It hurt so bad! Working to breach the surface of consciousness, Johnny concentrated on his surroundings.

The smell of gasoline was less prominent now. The guys must have washed down the vehicles to prevent them from igniting. Subconsciously, Johnny frowned.  _ Where did that thought come from? Who were the guys? _ He renewed his efforts to keep a conscious thought but once again his mind failed to keep it together.  _ Something was very wrong with him... _ he determined. Panic lodged in his throat. His mind was so distorted and muddy he couldn’t put one rational thought in front of another.

As panic took hold the voices around him got louder and more frantic. The entourage of forgein hands that touched him only served to increase his terror. Reflexively, he did his best to back away from the barrage around him.

“-hnny it’s alright calm down...me...Johnny…”  _ Who is that? The voice sounds so familiar…  _ “...Get Rampart…”

A murmur of another voice in the background was followed by a radio’s squeal. The unfamiliar hands that touched him backed away leaving him alone with the familiar voice. His fractured brain worked to make sense of his surroundings. The urge to sob washed over him unexpectedly. Something was very, very wrong.

A second jolt of pain mercilessly stabbed through him centered around his back and stomach. Where was he and what was wrong with him? Johnny renewed his efforts to breach the surface of consciousness, but he felt a part of him didn’t want to wake up. Struggling, Johnny drug himself to awareness. He needed to know what was going on.

“Alright let's get the door open.” The porta power roared to life again. Johnny could only guess they were cutting the Rover door open.

Relishing in the first conscious thought, he turned his senses to more of his surroundings. He didn’t bother opening his eyes, knowing they were useless. Instead he let his remaining four senses fill in the blanks. Fabric rustled near his right ear and he turned to it only to find his movement restricted.

“Johnny? Johnny it’s me. I need you to answer me.” A hand lightly slapped the side of his face. “Come one Johnny, you know how important this is.”

“Roy?” That one word felt like it sucked the life out of him. Johnny groaned. This definitely wasn’t his day.

“Good. That’s real good.” What Johnny assumed was Roy’s hand, picked up his right hand. “Johnny, can you squeeze my hand as hard as you can?”

Johnny turned his attention to clutching his friend's hand as hard as he could. His body ached enough he didn’t mention how Roy’s hand quivered suspiciously in his. Guilt trickled through him. There was no doubt in his mind Roy was worried sick over him. It was amazing how quickly Roy could go from partner to mother hen when he was hurt.

“Johnny?” Roy called his name again, drawing his patient's attention back to the present. “Johnny are you still with me?”

“Yeah.” A pair of hands held his left arm in a firm but gentle grasp. “Roy?”

Fabric rustled to his right again as Roy shifted closer. “What is it Johnny?” The hands holding his left arm gently moved around feeling the break in the bone.

A quiet conversation in lowered tones was exchanged. Johnny didn’t have the energy to pay close attention. It took everything he had to beat back the drowsiness that threatened to take control.

“Um…” Johnny swallowed an unexpected lump in his throat. “How bad is it?”

Without his eyes, Johnny could feel Roy tense in the seat beside him. Immediately he was worried about the lack of response. Roy only hesitated when he was worried. Dark thoughts raced through his mind. How bad was it? Brice had been acting strange and now Roy?

He knew Roy might sugarcoat the cold hard truth. Not being able to see would make it where he was totally at the mercy of what someone told him. That was what bothered him. All control over his life had been suddenly stripped from him.

“You have two radius breaks in the left arm. Brice is splinting it right now.” Sure enough, Johnny could feel Brice’s hands starting to strap the splint into place.

“What about my head?” Brice’s methodical movements to strap on the splint halted briefly before he forced them to work again.

“You have a pretty good lump, but the blindness should be temporary. If anything, you’ll just give Dr. Brackett a guinea pig to test out the new hospital equipment.” Roy quipped in an attempt to lighten the mood. “You know...you really don’t have to work so hard to keep Dr. Brackett busy.”

Johnny smiled pathetically. “Na...Can’t let him think his job is all  _ that _ simple can I?” The weak smile faded fast. He knew for sure Roy was lying to him about how bad it was. The warm liquid trickling in rivlets down his stomach told him how dire his circumstances were. “What about….” Johnny stopped to lick his parched lips. “...my stomach?”

Another tense pause from Brice and Roy told him all he needed to know.

“That bad huh?” Johnny’s voice was course. Deep inside, there was a part of him that always knew...knew he wouldn’t be walking away from this one. Instead of despair, all he felt was a calm resolution. If he was dying then so be it.

“Johnny-” Roy wanted to reassure his friend, but he didn’t have the words.

“It’s alright...huh. It’s crazy to think I could survive radiation poisoning and that bout of monkey virus only to bite it in my own car. Sure makes a guy think...ya know?” Johnny’s words startled Roy.

His partner was a man who would fight tooth and nail for every breath he breathed. It was painful to hear his partner at ease with the idea of dying. Tears sprung into Roy’s eyes at the thought of his vibrant partner giving up on life. Roy opened his mouth only to find Brice had beat him to the honors of setting his partner straight.

“John Gage, how dare you talk like that!” It was hard to tell who was more surprised at Brice’s outburst, Roy and Johnny or Brice himself. “Now you listen to me John Gage! I haven’t spent the last ten minutes patching you back together for you to just think you can up and die one me! I may be a lot of things, but I’m a sore loser now you remember that!”

The wail of an ambulance in the distance was warmly welcomed by all working the crash site. Inside the Rover, Roy and Brice exchanged a look. Their hopes had soared to unfathomable heights with the ambulances arrival. But with the arrival came the one thing they hated, removing the rod from John’s back and stomach.


	6. Chapter 6

Roy's hand on his arm stiffened. Johnny took another shallow breath and listened intently to the conversation between Brice and his partner, trying to glean as much as he could without his eyesight.

As a child he’d thought it was fun to cover his eyes on a pitch black night and pretend he was blind. Many kids were scared to death of the dark from an early age, but Johnny never was. There was a part of him that loved the dark. Really, he enjoyed sitting in the pitch black dark listening to the world around him.

Perhaps he was at peace with the dark because he knew opening his eyes would guarantee his sight in a split second. Suffice to say, it was eerie to have no such comfort now. His breath quickened and panic gripped his throat thinking about living in the dark for the rest of his life.

_ He was blind! What was he going to do with his life? How would he live? How would he do a simple thing like pouring milk into a glass or walk down a hallway without landing in a heap on the hard floor? _

“Johnny?” A face-less pair of hands gripped his face. Meanwhile Johnny’s chest heaved in panic. “Johnny I need you to calm down for me.”

Johnny closed his eyes, sobbing. It was surreal to feel his eyelids close, but not to experience any light change behind his eyelids. Roy slapped his cheeks trying to get his attention. He needed to answer Roy. What would his partner think of him sobbing like a baby making a fool out of himself?

“Come on partner...what’s going on in that head of yours?” When Johnny didn’t answer Roy was starting to get anxious. “Johnny!” He snapped. “Johnny I need you to talk to me!”

Johnny retreated back into his own mind. He wasn’t strong enough to face reality or himself. Sinking back into the darkness, he breathed out a soft breath. 

Some fights couldn’t be won.

Kelly Brackett nervously hovered over the radio. Brice was instructed to radio in when they got Johnny out of the car. It had been nearly ten minutes since the last transmission and he was going stir crazy. He wanted to demand an update to satisfy his own anxiety but he knew all that would do was take valuable resources away from Johnny. As a physician he was concerned about Johnny’s condition. As a friend, Kel was downright scared.

When the paramedic program started he’d been against it from the get go. He was a doctor, and being a doctor meant he looked out for the welfare of his patients. He was more than uncomfortable to think he was treating patients only through a radio. Thousands of possibilities had run through his head.

What if a major injury was missed? What happened if a patient wasn’t treated correctly? How could he help strangers treat patients without being there in person leaving open the door to any assortment of possibilities?

To say the least, he was critical of the idea of having over trained firemen ‘playing doctor’. Then Dixie was hurt… Roy and Johnny had crossed the very line he’d drawn strictly in the sand. What they did should have proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that he couldn’t trust any hose jockey playing doctor. Instead it did the opposite.

In a split second he’d gone from being the program's worst enemy to their strongest supporter. Kel rubbed his hands together wishing he had something to occupy his hands with as he waited. Again, he wrestled down the desire to demand an update.

Joe Early breezed into the room. “Kel, have you seen-” Joe broke off seeing the tense expression on his colleagues face. Instantly, he stepped closer in full doctor mode. “What’s wrong Kel? Are you ill?”

“I’m fine.” Brackett said, trying to calm his friend. His heart felt lighter now there was someone else in the room to consult with. He motioned to the radio. “51 called in a car accident more than ten minutes ago at Sierra Falls.”

Joe was starting to put two and two together. “Sierra Falls...isn’t that where-?”

“-Johnny lives.” Kel finished for him. Joe’s heart sank to his toes.

Kelly Brackett’s normally guarded expression was wrenchingly open and filled with emotion. Before Kel continued, Joe already knew there was more bad news coming.

“Johnny must have never made it to work because Craig Brice and Roy were the two paramedics on duty. From what I can gather Johnny is a victim in a two vehicle accident. The driver of the other vehicle is stable, it seems like he got away pretty much unscathed.”

Joe Early’s mouth was suddenly dry. He had the urge to go home and pull the covers over his head and rue the day had ever even started. Thankfully, the surgeon in him took the lead, calmly, he waited for Kel to continue.

“Johnny wasn’t as lucky. His left arm is broken in two places, pinning him to the door.” Kel took a calming breath before he continued to share his news. “He has a hematoma to the base of his skull and his eyes are dilated and unresponsive to light.”

Joe pursed his lips but didn’t comment. By his years of experience working closely with Kel, he could tell the worst was yet to come.

“Roy also said Johnny was impaled by a half inch rod.”

Joe’s eyes widened. “Did you say impaled? Do you know how bad?”

“Roy said the rod punctured his back and is embedded in his stomach.” Joe winced in sympathy.

“An injury in that position would result in a massive amount of blood loss. Johnny needs immediate medical attention…” Joe turned his wrist to look at his watch. “The ambulance should be here by now? What’s holding them up?”

Shaking his head, Kel leaned against the counter. “Roy said the rod is pinning him to the seat making it impossible to extract him before the ambulance is one site.” 

Joe Early blanched as he thought of having to remove the rod from Johnny’s stomach. Not for the first time he was thankful he wasn’t a firefighter. As a doctor he saw his fair share of gruesome injuries but it was nothing like the brutal field medicine the firefighter performed. Treating victims with a large stock of medicine to relieve pain was one thing, while dealing with critical patients without a medicine cabinet was another.

It was Kel’s turn to look at his clock. “The ambulance should be arriving on scene right now. I advised Brice and Roy against extracting Johnny from the vehicle before the ambulance arrived. He’s already lost four pints of blood as it is.”

“The ambulance is well stocked with everything they need. Not to mention, Johnny’s chances increase once he’s on the road. Although, his head injury may make things tricky.”

Kel and Joe exchanged a look. Because of the head injury it was too risky to give permission for a sedative or pain medication. That meant Johnny wouldn’t have any medicine in his system to make freeing him easier.

Roy’s hands trembled. Mike and Marco had forced open the passenger seat door behind Johnny. Seconds away from extracting Johnny, Roy had moved closer to his partner holding his prone body. For the hundredth time today Roy checked his friend's pulse. Listening intently to his partners breathing, he anxiously counted every inhale and exhale.

Over Johnny’s shoulder Roy watched Mike and Marco cut the back supports off the chair so they could pull the rod out of the chair. He shivered as he thought of having to cause his friend more pain. Craig Brice leaned towards him, an ambulance attendant trailing him with a gurney.

“I just informed Rampart the ambulance is here. Brackett says to get him to Rampart as soon as we can.”

The blonde paramedic released a ragged breath and smoothed down an unruly lock on his partners forehead leaving a smear of red. Glancing down, he noticed the growing red puddle seeping through the pressure bandage coating his hands and arms.

Hastily, Roy locked eyes with Brice. “We need to get him out of here fast! He’s losing too much blood and he’ll only lose more when we move him.”

“We still need to decide how to get him to Rampart. Do we remove the rod here or cut it off and let the doctor’s remove it where they have more equipment?” Something close to concern covered Brice’s face.

Roy forced himself back to reality, skipping over his reaction about how much emotion Brice was freely showing. There wasn’t time. Not when the life blood of his partner was steadily draining out of his body. Coming up with a split second decision, Roy addressed Mike and Marco.

“Are you almost done?”

Mike glanced up long enough to nod. “We’re almost through? What’s the plan?”

“Let me know when you can bend the seat back but don’t cut all the way through. We need to see how close the rod is to his spine before we get him out. The last thing we need is a spinal cord injury.”

The K-12 droned loudly working to free Johnny. Quickly Mike cut the back of the chair powering down the saw to let Roy know they had followed his orders.

Brice wordlessly reached inside the Rover and held Johnny secure in his arms as Marco and Mike worked together to bend the seat back carefully. Roy called for Marco and Mike to stop moving the seat. Then he twisted around his unconscious partner and examined his back. His lips thinned as he took in the blood soaked seat.

“Marco, can you take over for Brice?” Immediately, Marco navigated around Brice and wrapped his arms around Johnny holding his crew member in a seated position. “Brice, come look at this.”

Brice poked his head into the back of the Rover so he could access Johnny. The man fought to keep his composure at the sight. The metal rod had punched into Johnny’s back terribly close to the man’s spine. The paramedics shared a long look. Removing the rod had just got a whole lot harder.

“Mike-” Brice said in his most professional voice. “I need you to contact Rampart for us. Tell them we have a better angle on the puncture wound and the rod is dangerously close to his spine. We’ll need instruction on how to continue.”

“Right away.” Mike ducked out of view followed by a radio squawk.

Brice backed out of the Rover and reached for a pressure bandage. Deftly, he packed it around the rod as best he could while Mike talked with Rampart. An instant later Mike peeked inside the cab.

“Rampart said to cut the rod as close to the wound as we can and secure it for transport.” Mike climbed into the back of the Rover and powered up the K-12.

Ambulance sirens and lights broke the still silence. Most travelers were already arriving at work cutting down the early morning rush hour. Inside the ambulance, Roy anxiously hovered over his unconscious partner lying deathly still on the stretcher. The trauma blankets had been pushed aside allowing access to the mortal wound still leaking precious life blood. Roy ached as if it was his own blood dripping into the saturated pressure bandage.

He adjusted the IV’s dripping vital blood and medication into Johnny’s veins. An oxygen mask covered the lower half of Johnny’s face, pale with blood loss. Roy shook out his shaky hands and wished the ambulance would go faster. Pointedly, he avoided the maroon smudged bandages padding Johnny’s torso. There was blood literally everywhere.

To prove his point, Roy looked down at his blood stained shirt. Suddenly he wished someone in management would have known better than to choose a light colored uniform to dress firefighters and paramedics in. The light blue shirts were easy for civilians to pick them out of a crowd easily, but they were notorious for showing stains.

Joann could work miracles with a washing machine and a bar of homemade soap on any stain that a drycleaning service couldn’t get out, but this shirt was beyond repair. Roy made a mental note to make sure the shirt got to the garbage can before Joann saw it. His wife had seen plenty of shirts come home with suspicious stains. However, this particular one was one that was better off not ever seeing the light of day again.

The blonde paramedic sighed audibly in relief when the ambulance slowed down, backing into the ER entrance. Hurriedly, Roy shoved open the back doors and pulled the stretcher out. Johnny had thankfully lost consciousness after cutting the rod from the seat. It had been unnerving to watch his partner lay unconscious through the entire ambulance ride. Sternal rubs hadn’t drawn any reaction.

_ It wasn’t looking good, not at all.  _ Roy thought. An unexpected hand dropped onto his shoulder. Dixie and an orderly efficiently pulled the stretcher out of his white knuckle grip. Roy made an awkward attempt at catching the stretcher with his partner, keeping pace with Dixie. The blonde nurse blocked his pathetic attempt easily--too easily. It was clear Dixie wasn’t allowing him to take a step further.

“Dix-” Roy started to protest only for Dixie to give him a hard look near.

“Roy why don’t you go wait in the Doctor’s lounge?” Dixie pushed Roy away from the gurney. “I’ll update you on Johnny’s condition as often as I can. You have my promise.” 

The head nurse turned her back to him, expecting her suggestion--more like an order--to be heeded.  _ Pfft, like that was going to happen…  _ Roy pushed forward ignoring Dixie. He nearly made it to the treatment rooms when Dixie abruptly stepped in his path forcing him to halt. The orderly continued down the hall wheeling Johnny into treatment room 3.

“Dixie you can’t expect-” Roy began to argue again only for the pretty nurse to cut him off.

“Roy don’t argue with me.” Dixie said sternly. “I know how close you and Johnny are. I promise you we’ll do all we can for him. You did a fine job getting him here Roy, now it’s our turn. You’re too close to Johnny to be level headed right now.” She pointed down the hall with a perfectly manicured nail. “Now go to the Doctor’s lounge and wait for Brice to come.” She ordered like a drill sergeant. Then her tone softened. “Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of him.”

Roy opened his mouth to protest, only to find Dixie swishing through the door of the treatment room. Numbly, he peered down the hall where Johnny had disappeared. Dixie had never spoken to him that way--at any time.

In his mind, he knew Dixie was right--to some extent. Maybe he did need to give Brackett space to work on Johnny without getting in the way, but his heart said otherwise. There was no way he was going to allow Dixie to keep Johnny out of his sight for one second, no matter what.

Slowly, Roy stood beside the door to the treatment room. If he went inside he was definitely going to get a scolding from Dixie and Brackett. One he'd never live down, but it would be worth it so long as he could stay by Johnny’s side.

The blonde paramedic pushed open the door and stepped inside, ready for the fight sure to come.


	7. Chapter 7

The sharp smell of antiseptic stung his nose. The tips of his fingers were numb and tingly making him want to rap them on the hard surface he was lying on the pound feeling back. Rustles of fabric crunched all around him and he felt bodies rush and move around him. With his eyes still closed, he waited for the crushing pain to catch up with him. Instead of the pain all he felt was...numb?

“Dix, draw blood and send it up to the lab. Tell them I want a cross match, blood smear and two pints of blood yesterday!” That was Brackett’s voice.

Kelly Brackett had many voices. There was the stern and bossy voice that had every new intern and nurse shaking in their shoes. His stern voice scared anyone who didn’t know him enough to see the soft hearted man he hid underneath. Second there was the loud worried voice, the voice he was using now. 

He could hear Brackett’s rant now.  _ Stupid hose jockey! Don't you know better than to go off and get yourself hurt like that! I have better things to do than stitch my paramedics back together every time they feel like it! _

A ghost of a smile crossed his lips. At least this time it wasn’t his fault; not completely anyway. He wondered what would have happened if he hadn't been late to work this morning. Would he have made it to work safely without anyone getting hurt? Or would’ve the other driver just hit another innocent person on their way to work? It felt surreal to be the victim in need of rescue.

Suddenly he had the desire to talk to Dr. Brackett. “Doc?” He asked.

Johnny listened as Brackett took a step closer. The injured paramedic didn’t bother to open his eyes. He wouldn’t see anything anyway.

“Hey, Johnny. Just couldn’t stay away, huh?” Brackett’s voice deadpanned, but he was grateful for the attempt at humor.

A cross between a laugh and a gasp of pain came rushing out of his mouth. Instantly, he regretted it. He was beyond the point of pain. Either they’d given him pain medication--which was unlikely--or the rod was doing more damage than he wanted to think about at the moment. He couldn’t feel pain from his wounds but he could feel how hard it was to breathe. Quick inhales and exhales made it feel like he was sucking in air through a straw.

Brackett must have noticed because an oxygen mask was immediately set down firmly on his face. He breathed in, grateful to feel the pressure in his lungs ease. The cold air wafted over his cheeks.

“Doc…” The mask muffled his words forcing him to talk louder. “Doc?”

His lungs didn’t hold enough air to talk any louder or talk anymore. Brackett slipped the band under Johnny’s head, tying the mask firmly to his face. Thankfully, Brackett anticipated what he was going to ask.

“You’ll be alright. We can’t get x-ray in because of the metal rod, so we’ll have no choice but to take them in the OR. The other driver had nothing more than a few bumps and bruises...” Brackett calmly talked to him.

Johnny drifted off into unconsciousness, sound asleep before he ever heard the door open to admit his partner.

* * *

_ Click... _

_ Clock... _

_ Click... _

_ Clock… _

Roy fought the urge to rip the annoying clock right off the wall. His head pounded in rhythm with every sound the second hand made on the open face clock mounted in the Doctor’s Lounge. Swiping a hand over his face, he wished he could stuff cotton to make the annoying ticking stop.

_ Click… _

_ Clock… _

_ Click… _

_ Clock… _

Roy abruptly stood. If he didn’t get out of here he was going to do something to the clock he was sure he--admittedly--wouldn’t regret. In short, he was about to find a baseball bat or a screwdriver to fix the clock from ever making another sound in its life--whichever he found first. Maybe if he found the bat it’d make him feel better inside.

_ Click… _

_ Clock… _

_ CLICK… _

_ CLOCK… _

_ That was it! _ Roy roughly pushed the door open until it hit the wall it was mounted on. The paramedic briskly walked down the halls, relishing in the ability to do  _ something _ . He was sure Brice was taking longer than normal to restock supplies just to give him time alone and get away from him. Dixie had all but hog tied him to make him stay put, when she’d shoved him in the Doctor’s Lounge. Even she was having a hard time dealing with him at the moment.

Maybe, they were all ready for a break from him. He cursed his bad luck. No sooner had he followed Johnny into the treatment room then Brice had arrived, and they’d been called out. It was well past noon and he’d yet to see much of his partner because the squad had been toned out time after time.

It had put him in a bad mood--if the clock and subsequent baseball bat was any indication. Finally, they were allowed a break only to find Johnny was  _ still _ in surgery. What could be taking them so long? Dixie had tried to answer his questions as best she could, but she still had an ER to run and nurses to supervise. Both Dr. Brackett and Dr. Early were in surgery with Johnny, leaving the ER seriously short-handed adding to the growing problem.

Craig Brice stepped into his path stopping his frenzied walk. The HT was brought up slightly, making his message clear.  _ Another call _ . Roy’s mood darkened as they briskly made for the exit where the squad was parked.  _ This had better be good. _


End file.
